Moments
by Cadaverous Apples
Summary: ...in the lives of Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, and Blaise Zabini. But really, we only care about the hilarious ones, the dangerous ones, the sinful ones, the smutty ones...and they're all here. A collection of DGB oneshots. Smut and fluff included!
1. I: Bored

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

Prompt: 015. Bored

* * *

Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were snogging. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were _snogging. _Draco _Malfoy _and Blaise _Zabini _were _snogging! _

Ginny's mind was stuck on that single sentence, repeating in overdrive, a massive loop of gorgeous, sweaty men and their no shirts and wet tongues that just wouldn't stop grappling with each other. Right in front of her, to boot! She knew she was staring, and she knew that she probably shouldn't have blasted this door open (okay, so she hadn't _blasted _it, but she had used a less-than-acceptable Dark form of _Alohamora _to get the door open, so she might as well have just _Deprimo_'d it), but she couldn't stop.

They were right in front of her, pressed together in the muggy room, with no regard for anyone else (well, they _had _locked and warded the whole bloody room, so she couldn't blame them for not realizing that there was someone else now exposed to their sexiness), sweat in gleaming droplets across their skin…Ginny was salivating. It was warmer in this room, yes, but they must have just stopped working out, or playing Quidditch, or having sex—

Ginny stopped her mind right there. _It's the second option, _she scolded herself, eyes lighting upon Malfoy's Quidditch pads with relief. Because if they _had _been having sex, well…she wasn't quite sure her mind would have been able to take that overload.

Why oh _why _did she have to insist on becoming not bored? Couldn't she have just stayed in her room, a social pariah, instead of attempting to hunt for Luna and stumbling across a locked and warded room and then stubbornly forcing it open out of curiosity? If only she'd just accepted being bored…

It was Sunday afternoon, the third of the year. Most of the students were outside, lazing around and generally doing nothing, since it was still much too early in the year for any kind of serious homework to be assigned. But despite the fact that most students were taking advantage of this rare day in which they didn't have anything to do, one wasn't.

And being bored wasn't exactly well suited towards a Weasley, particularly not one practically raised by brothers. Specifically, not one raised by one rule-breaking curse breaker, one outdoorsy dragon keeper, two troublemaking twins, and one thick headed sidekick with a serious case of hero worship.

_Okay, that last one was a bit harsh, _Ginny admitted to herself. Even if it was true. She had managed to remove the window in her dorm (a simple _Evanesco _had done the trick, but it was the counter spell that would allow her to retrieve the window that would be a bit more difficult to manage) and was currently splayed out on the sun-warmed stones, half in her dorm and half out of it.

Below, the distant sounds of students fooling around on the grounds were filtering up to her, but only parts made it up to her all the way. The ones that she heard only made her more angry, since it further rubbed it in that on the third Sunday of the year, one of the only ones where she'd likely have free time, Ginny Weasley didn't have anything to do. Anything to do, anyone to hang out with…she was a social leper! Sitting around on a window ledge, barely even dressed yet…

"I should go find Luna," she muttered to herself, sighing resignedly. She felt that lately, she was going more and more to Luna as a last resort, since the Trio had recently been MIA. She figured that it was high time to face the fact that she was a little _too _dependent on their good nature and willingness to allow her to tag along like the unwanted fourth wheel. After all, they were called the Golden _Trio, _not the Golden Quartet. It just didn't have the same ring.

"I'm going to find Luna," Ginny announced firmly, throwing herself upwards and back into the room, deciding to forego replacing the window in favor of just letting someone else attempt to. Eventually, they'd just give up and go get Hermione to do it anyway, and Ginny was feeling slightly resentful to the bushy headed seventh year, so any extra work for Hermione made her feel just the tiniest bit better.

She slid out of her shorts on the way to her trunk and pulled out a pair of yesterday's jeans from her trunk and put them on. No use wasting some perfectly nice clean pants when these ones weren't even that dirty anyway. She decided to forego changing shirts; her tank top was only marginally ratty, and it wasn't that much of a fashion faux pas for her scarlet bra straps to be visible.

She pulled her hair back in a messy bun to get the sweaty strands off of her neck, and slipped on some flip flops before tucking her wand in her hair and leaving her dorm. Really, it was almost unnaturally hot for the middle of September. Wasn't September supposed to be full of chilly breezes and changing leaves? Certainly not sweltering heats and no breezes to even be heard of. Just another one of the grievances that Ginny added to her list that made this Sunday a Perfectly Horrid Day.

She didn't encounter anybody as she made her way down the stairs, and there was no one in the Common Room, either. _Great, _she thought to herself. _Means that even Neville managed to find himself something to do on this gods-awful day._

_That _was certainly a depressing thought.

Outside of Gryffindor Tower, Ginny decided to wait and make a plan of action before she started crawling all over the school looking for Luna. On a day like this, she would be in the least likely place that everyone else would be. Meaning she'd probably be inside while everyone else was outside. On the plus side, that eliminated everything on the outside, including the pitch and the lake. On the down side, that left everything else inside.

Including the whole bloody castle.

_Let's start with the library, _Ginny thought decisively, knowing that Luna probably wouldn't be in the library, like any other near-sane person. But she needed somewhere to start anyway, so it might as well be the library.

It wasn't a long trek to the library, but it was a silent one. Could all of Hogwarts really be outside? She hadn't really thought that _everyone _was, but apparently she had been wrong. That was another depressing thought.

_Really, if I keep this up, I'm going to be depressingly thinking myself into an early suicide. _Ginny paused for a second, smiling to herself at the thought. _As opposed to a late one…_Since she really didn't have much to think about, Ginny decided to humor herself and continue on this line of thought. _Could one really be late to their own suicide? Potentially, it's possible, especially if they had set their own time of death, like midnight or something equally macabre like that. _

Honestly, if _she _was going to commit suicide, she'd do it at a completely unorthodox and unexpected time. Like two in the afternoon, or maybe half past ten in the morning. They'd _really _scratch their heads if she committed suicide then. But midnight? She'd immediately be written off as a poor, attention-deprived sap. Which wouldn't do at all, even if it was embarrassingly accurate.

_Gods, I need a life, _she thought despairingly, realizing just how pathetic she'd allowed herself to become. Depending on the Trio for company, and when they fail, falling back on Loony Lovegood. Not that Luna was bad company, per se, but if she just simply didn't have any _normal _friends…it was just downright sad.

Stepping into the library, Ginny quickly deduced that luckily, there were more unfortunate souls than she. A couple of students were diligently working on their homework, and she shuddered in sympathy for them. Sure, she could have been doing homework and getting ahead in her classes, but really, who would? Even Hermione had managed to find time to not do homework.

Granted, that probably was because she had finished it all yesterday, but still. There were a few students slouched over their books on the desks scattered across the library, sitting in sunbeams that were swirling with dust. None of them had a head full of scraggly white-blonde hair, so Ginny figured that Luna wasn't one of the poor schmucks stuck in the library doing homework.

She left the library, choosing to not search the rows of dusty books for the sake of her nonexistent allergies. Luna probably wasn't back there, anyway. Idly heading down a hallway full of abandoned classrooms on her left and open windows on her right, Ginny glanced inside each open door she passed, finding more dust and piles of unused chairs and desks. Each door was open, which she didn't bother finding unusual at all.

She sighed miserably, eyes looking outside at the picturesque view. Hell, she could even see some people zooming around on brooms! What she wouldn't give for a pick up game of Quidditch…

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny caught sight of a closed door. This made her hesitate. All the other doors had been open, baring their empty contents. But now, this one was closed? She glanced further down the hall to confirm that none of the other doors were closed; this was the only one. Curious.

She put a cautious hand on the handle, and twisted experimentally. Nothing. Twisting, she pushed on it lightly, but it didn't budge. Beginning to frown slightly, she twisted it the other direction and gave it a harder nudge with her shoulder. When this didn't offer up any satisfactory results, she quickly lost patience and rammed the thing with her shoulder.

All this earned her was a sore shoulder and only served to piss her off more. She gave the door a sound kick, but all this did was give her sore toes. _Great time to forget about wearing flip flops, _she thought bitterly, rubbing her toes. Once she had sufficiently reduced the pain in her toes to a dull pounding, Ginny stood back up fully, withdrawing her wand and casting _Alohamora _on the stubborn chunk of wood.

She didn't even hear a click, and with a sinking heart she tried the door again, this time taking care not to kick it. No luck.

Examining the door with more interest, Ginny decided that this was no ordinary locking charm. _Well, no shit, Sherlock! _she reminded herself. She tossed a few spells at the door for shits and giggles, mostly, and none of them even budged the pitted wood. This had her eyebrows crawling up her face; _Reducto _didn't even leave a scratch, and she progressed steadily upwards into stronger curses such as _Expulso, Confringo, _and _Deprimo, _in addition to a few other spells that Ginny didn't have any business knowing.

Luckily, whoever had warded the door seven ways to hell hadn't made it so any spells cast at it bounced off, and instead absorbed them. Otherwise she would have been in a world of hurt, not to mention serious trouble for destroying half the corridor. Unluckily, though, the door _still _wasn't open.

Frowning thoughtfully at it, Ginny tapped her lip with her finger while she twirled her wand with her other hand, ignoring the angry red and green sparks that flew off its end. What kind of spell could withstand the barrage she had just sent at it? It certainly wasn't anything taught here at Hogwarts, and she doubted she would even find it in the Restricted Section, if she was pressed to look. No, it was definitely Dark—which eliminated the possibility of it being cast by anyone in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.

There were a few students in Ravenclaw she could see casting it, but not many. Only some seventh years that came from pure, Dark families would even have access to such a spell, and even then, if they were in Ravenclaw, they most likely didn't use it. No, whoever had warded this room was probably a Slytherin. But Ginny was beyond caring at this point. She couldn't get into the room with normal spells, and that meant she had to get creative.

Ginny liked getting creative.

Going through a mental catalogue of Dark spells that might open the door, she idly cast each one as she came to it, scrutinizing the door for any sign that the spell had worked and dismissing it quickly when she tested the door and found it locked. She was running out of spells to do, so out of boredom she paused for a few moments to twist the last two, two of the Darker unlocking and destroying spells she knew, together to form one spell.

It was delicate work, and required most of her concentration, but when she was done she was pretty sure that this new hybrid form of _Alohamora _would open the door. Giving it a test, she heard the click of the lock even before the light of the spell had faded, and she grinned triumphantly, pushing the door open.

And then freezing, and staring in shock. And now she was right back at square one.

_Really, it should be illegal to look so sinful, _Ginny thought to herself, watching as Zabini dug a dark golden hand in Malfoy's sweat dampened locks. Her gaze zeroed in on the way his blond curls seemed to embrace the Italian boy's glistening palm, and she felt her breath catch in her throat briefly, before it picked right back up at that crazy, erratic pace it had adopted upon seeing the two of them entwined.

Zabini's own hair was twisted into a small braid, about double the length of Malfoy's shoulder length hair. It was loose, however, mostly due to the fact that Malfoy had embedded a hand into the strands and wriggled it free from its tight weave. Zabini's lips parted in a strangled half-gasp when Malfoy jerked his head to the side with the leverage he had in Zabini's hair, trailing delicious-looking lips down a glimmering neck.

This drew Ginny's eyes to their naked torsos, so smooth and muscled and sweaty that she was sure her retinas were seared with the image. The sight of them burned away any coherent thought until the only thing that was flying through her head was what they were doing to each other, what they _could _have done to each other, what they probably _would _do to each other, and what they could do to _her. _

This last thought stopped her in her daydreaming so abruptly that she let out a small noise, one that was immediately noticed by Malfoy and Zabini. Of course, instead of immediately springing apart or opening their eyes to see who it was, only Zabini opened his eyes. Even then, they remained hooded, at half mast. Malfoy continued to lave the expanse of skin in front of him.

"Enjoying the show?" Zabini questioned smoothly, sounding surprisingly cavalier about the whole thing. If she closed her eyes, she could simply imagine that he was asking her that in his haughty, cool voice in the Great Hall, rather than an abandoned classroom while his boyfriend made out with his chest.

_Well, boyfriend might have been stretching it. _They could be friends with benefits for all she knew.

"Actually, I was," Ginny found herself admitting honestly, and fought the knee-jerk reaction to blush, as she usually did when she opened her mouth before thinking and blurted out embarrassingly true things.

The sound of her voice was enough for Malfoy to emerge from his worshipping of Zabini's skin, and he leaned back, eyes opening lazily to meet Ginny's.

"Weaselette," he said, sounding surprised. "This is…unexpected." Ginny felt an eyebrow arching up her face in incredulous shock. Were they serious?

"To say the least," she said dryly, crossing her arms defensively. Now that she was in here, she really didn't know what to do; of all people, she hadn't really expected them to be in here, and she hadn't thought of a plan past getting open that damned door. Really, all she had wanted to do was get past that ward, and once she had done that, she had fancied the idea of wondering who had actually cast it.

But now she knew who cast it, and she was still in the room with them. _Uh oh. _Staying in here now just seemed to be inviting disaster.

"How did you get in?" Malfoy asked, eyes narrowing as he realized that she probably shouldn't be standing there in the first place. Ginny shrugged nonchalantly.

"I opened the door," she replied coolly, hoping they would drop it. "Now, it seems like I've got the wrong door, so I'll just be leaving—"

Before she could make her escape, they uncurled themselves from each other and stalked towards her. Dimly, Ginny heard the door slam shut behind her, and she realized that she was screwed. Hand tightening on her wand, she unfolded her arms, sinking into a lower stance and attempting to keep her eyes on both of them.

They exchanged amused glances with each other.

"I think not, Weasley. Do you want to know what grade that spell was on the door?" Zabini asked, giving her a smug grin. _He must have cast the spell, _she thought. Zabini was smiling to himself now, as Malfoy stared at her unflinchingly, eyes narrowed slightly as he folded his arms on his lean chest. She tried not to notice how enticing his forearms looked crossed on his defined muscles, and dragged her eyes to Zabini's amused chocolately ones that no doubt noticed everything.

"Not particularly," she answered when she finally realized that he had been expecting one.

"Grade A, but the Ministry only lumps it there as a formality," he informed her casually, as if performing what was considered to be an Unforgiveable without the repercussions was commonplace to him. _Hell, it probably was. _

"Really now? Well, congratulations. I'll leave you two to what you were busy with before—"

"Weasley, there are no known spells that would have been able to get that door open," Malfoy interrupted, snapping angrily. Ginny blinked in shock; she hadn't _really _just cracked an uncrackable ward, had she?

"Impossible," she said, shaking her head to prove them wrong. Unconsciously, she relaxed her stance, realizing that they weren't going to actively attack her. "You must have used a lesser ward, because I shouldn't have been able to get into this room, then," she told them, frowning at the implications of this.

They took advantage of the situation, and she squeaked when she realized they had moved. Malfoy was on her left and Zabini was on her right, and her wand disappeared somewhere in his braid of hair while she was pressed between the two of them, breath gone in a whoosh.

"Little Weasleys shouldn't be able to break dangerous wards," Zabini cooed somewhere near her ear, and she swallowed, eyes pressed closed. Both of their warm, sweaty bodies were touching her front and her back; they must have turned her so they could both effectively trap her. Not that she was complaining…

_Wait! _she protested mentally. _I _am _protesting! This isn't good! This is _bad, _Ginny, and not the good kind of bad, either! _

When someone tightened their grip on her wrists, an unspoken sign for her to spill the beans, she felt the panic rise in a wave and she opened her mouth, the words spilling forth like some kind of vomit.

"I was just _bored, _with nothing to do on a bloody blistering Sunday afternoon, so I wanted to find the Trio before I realized I was pathetic for doing so, and then I tried to find Luna, but I couldn't find the fucker anywhere, and walking back from the library I found this door closed amongst all these other open doors to abandoned classrooms and I couldn't get the bloody door open so I kicked it and I stubbed my toe and the stupid—"

Ginny's eyes launched open when her tirade was silenced by a deliciously smooth pair of lips. Grey eyes. Angry grey eyes, with sweaty curls pressing to his forehead. _Malfoy. _

As soon as it started, it was over, and he leaned back, still scowling at her.

"Weasley cooties," he sneered in disgust. Instantly, her shock was replaced with anger, and before she could snap back at him, Zabini leaned around from her back.

"Let me taste," he asked, and Malfoy tilted forward to comply.

For the third time in as many minutes, Ginny felt her mouth drop open. Here she was, stuck between _Malfoy _and _Zabini, _and they were _snogging. _Snogging! With her in the middle!

And snogging because of her "Weasley cooties," as Malfoy so aptly named them? What was the world coming to?

Zabini pulled back soon enough, however, leaving Malfoy licking his lips with drooping eyes. Ginny felt her stomach do a back flip at the picture he presented, and resisted the urge to rise up on her toes and press her lips to his again, curious to see if he would pull back again or if he'd just continue to absorb more cooties from her.

Luckily, she was prevented from acting on her lapse of sanity by Zabini. As wonderful as he felt behind her, she couldn't help but be grateful that she couldn't see him, too, otherwise she'd be having insane fantasies about him in addition to Malfoy.

"You taste good, Weasley, which is why I'm willing to let you go if you tell us how you got past the spell," he told her, in a voice that sounded amused and businesslike and satisfied all at once. She swallowed once, closing her eyes to distract herself from the all-too-appealing view of Malfoy, and decided that she couldn't lose anything by answering.

"A hybrid spell of the Dark version of _Alohamora _and the Cracking Curse. I've fiddled with spells and combining them before, so I spent a few minutes whipping them together outside the door." She opened her eyes to find Malfoy looking at her like she had just grown a third head.

"Like I said, I was _bored,_" she defended with a glare. Malfoy's eyes drifted from hers and upwards to something past the top of her head, and she presumed the he was having a silent conversation with Zabini. She wriggled around a bit, tired of being stuck, but couldn't get anywhere.

Just when she was about to yell at them, they stepped away simultaneously, making her nearly stumble to catch her balance. She turned around to scowl at Zabini, who was offering her back her wand he had retrieved from his hair.

"You can go, then," he told her cheerfully, waving a hand at the open door. She gaped at him. After all that, they were just going to let her waltz away? At the very least, she had expected an _Obliviate, _not a simple pat on the head as he opened the door for her!

"What the hell—" she began heatedly, before he stepped forward and pushed her out the door with an insistent hand on her lower back that practically burned her skin.

"It's been lovely, dear, truly, but we've got things to do. People to shag, and all that. So, out you go. But remember, next time you decide to experiment a bit, you know where to find us." And with a winning smile, he slammed the door in her face.

Ginny blinked, and then blinked again. Had that just happened…? She rubbed her eyes tiredly. _It's the heat, _she decided. _It's making me go insane. _Walking back towards the Tower, she wondered if it really _had _happened. If so, then, _wow, _she must not have been the only one who was bored. Not to mention insane! But if it hadn't…

She shook her head firmly. _No, it's best to just pretend I never had gotten bored. I think I'll go back to the Tower and get ahead on homework or something. No need to ever remember that I…encountered Malfoy and Zabini in an empty classroom. _

Her mind buzzed with questions, but she pushed them aside. No, it was safer for her sanity to pretend it hadn't happened.

* * *

"I bet together, we could make all sorts of wonderful spells," Blaise purred in Draco's ear, biting down on the lobe as Draco groaned. "Just imagine what kind of Dark magic we could make. Or not Dark…" he trailed off, nibbling his way down Draco's mouth, judging where to place his next kiss by Draco's reaction.

"Or what, then?" Draco finally growled angrily, inciting a hidden smirk from Blaise.

"Or Grey. Fantastic, mind-blowing Grey magic. Our Dark combined with her Light…" Malfoy groaned again, dragging Blaise's lips up to his to ravish them furiously.

"You're such a fucking tease," he snapped into Blaise's lips, to which the darker boy laughed lowly.

"You can bet that together, we could find something to do so she wouldn't be bored again," he suggested to Draco. Draco nearly snarled at him, and decided to forego all pretences and dropped his hand on his lover's rather telling reaction.

There wasn't much left to be said after that.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to Melissa for the awesome beta! So, this is going to be a little different than my other things. I've been meaning to pick up one of those prompt tables I always see on livejournal, and I finally got around to it (this one has 100, though no guarantees on how regular I write them). Rather than settle in a particular universe, I decided to go for moments in the life of DGB--_any _moment, _any _time, _any _situation. They probably won't be connected unless I decide to continue a certain prompt by following up with another prompt. But as you can see, they can be before DGB get together as a couple (this one), during, or after (le gasp! As if THEY'D ever break apart!), but it really just depends on how I interpret the prompt.

Speaking of prompt, how do you think I dealt with this one? Betcha you guys liked a sweaty Draco and Blaise. :D

Roma


	2. II: Never

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

Prompt: 021. Never

* * *

"Never have I ever…" Ginny paused, brain scrambling for a sufficiently innocent beginning to this game. She hadn't _really _wanted to play, and it wasn't because she was sure she would win. It was because she was sure she'd win only if they started getting into dangerous topics, like Dark magic or sex.

She especially didn't want to talk about sex in front of these too, _especially _not while they were sitting on Draco's impossibly soft king sized bed, the blankets in a disarray due to their earlier pillow fight.

Okay, so they weren't exactly acting mature or anything. Ginny had been reluctant to accept Blaise's invitation to a sleepover in Draco's Head Boy room, and for good reason. She didn't really know how it had happened, but somewhere since the beginning of her sixth year and now, a few weeks after winter break, they'd become inseparable. The Anti-Trio was what most people had taken to calling them, mostly because they were considered to be the antithesis of the Golden Trio.

Of course, the Golden Trio were currently missing in action, off doing whatever it was that was so necessary. They also left her high and dry and without any sort of knowledge as to what they were doing, so she had harbored no small amount of resentment towards them.

But when Blaise had cornered her in the hall, for once without Draco (she found out later that he'd been in detention for cursing the Fat Lady's dress off her as a joke), eyes wide and pleading…she couldn't have resisted.

His persuasive argument had included bribing her (he'd promised that he'd buy her the newest Firebolt model, for her use until the brand new Ventosus model that Draco had promised her was finally produced), convincing her that it wouldn't be a step further than what they normally did (meaning that for the most part, she spent her days and much of her nights in Draco's room, anyway, so why was making it an official sleepover any different?), and finally just staring at her with puppy dog eyes. (1)

It should be illegal for him to widen his brown eyes at people like that.

So here she was, on a Saturday night, sitting in a circle so tight that her knees were brushing the boys sitting right next to her, creating a triangle of sorts between them. Before their recent pillow fight, they had finished up eating, bantering good-naturedly with each other.

She had long ago changed into her pajamas, which had undergone some dramatic improvements for the first time since she had received the overly-large shirt from her brother Bill proclaiming her love of the witches from Madame Adele's. She had never questioned the suspicious shirt (Well, she was pretty sure that it was from a brothel, so it didn't involve any questioning at all. Besides, she had always been a little disturbed that a brothel had also had a gift shop), and had worn it without fail as her pajama shirt since she had been a first year, first heading off for Hogwarts.

Now, though, she had retired her much-worn pajama shirt into the depths of her trunk, replaced by the emerald silk button up that had been gifted to her at Christmas by Draco and Blaise. She had never been able to tell whose shirt, exactly, it had been, but she knew that it had been warded beyond what any normal pajama shirt should have been.

She always had to repeatedly remind herself that she wore it because they had given it to her, and not because of the smell. It smelled like them. Their cologne, and apparently their own personal scents, seemed to be embedded on the shirt just like the wards, and no matter how often she wore it, the smell never faded. But she _didn't _wear it for the smell. Nope.

"…been attacked by a hippogriff!" Ginny finally cried out triumphantly, looking straight at the blond who was currently scowling at her. _That _was an innocent enough way to start this game, wasn't it? She patted herself on the back mentally for a job well done, hoping that the tone she had started the game off with would remain the same. Reluctantly, Draco folded his thumb into his palm. He was the first loser of the evening. Blaise, of course, simply shot her a wink, his ten fingers still displayed proudly.

"That was a one time thing," Draco remarked sullenly. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Sure, whatever. It was your own fault, anyway," she reminded him, and he nudged her left knee rather sharply, glaring. She nudged him back, returning his glare with one of her own. Her shove was rather ineffectual, since he was wearing silk pajama pants and her bare knee slid right past his. They would have remained at an impasse had Blaise not chosen that moment to continue on with the game.

"Never have I ever…" he paused, looking around for inspiration. His eyes landed on Ginny's bare foot, and grinned happily. "…painted my toenails!" This time, it was Ginny's turn to glare at someone, wiggling her lime green toes for emphasis. She dropped her thumb with a huff, glancing to Draco to continue the game. To her amusement, she saw that he had two spots of pink on his face, and another finger had joined his thumb in his palm.

"Did you just…?" she questioned, attempting to stifle her giggles and failing as she let out a peal of laughter, leaning slightly towards Blaise, who was looking shell shocked, before recovering his a smirk quickly.

"Sorry, mate," he apologized, not sounding apologetic in the least. "I was trying to target the female in the group; I didn't realize there were two." This earned him a shove from the blond, knocking him towards the giggling redhead. They bumped, content to just lean against each other and laugh, at the expense of Draco.

"Fine," Draco huffed angrily. "Never have I ever fancied a blond!" Still chuckling to himself, Blaise folded a finger down without remorse. Ginny, however, was suffering for a larger conflict. If they had been playing the game with more people, Ginny could have waited a few minutes after that one had gone around the circle, and stealthily stretched her hands, removing a finger when she raised them back up to technically not cheat, yet not let anyone know that she actually _did _fancy a blond.

That blond was currently looking at her expectantly, as well as a certain Italian boy, who she also had the misfortune of fancying.

"Bugger this," she muttered to herself, folding a second finger down. Now, Blaise was technically winning. Ignoring Draco's triumphant look, Ginny tried to figure out what she'd say.

"Never have I ever…" She paused, wondering how she could keep it non-sexual. It was harder than she thought it would be, but eventually she got herself to focus on financial things. "…owned a new wand." She figured it was one of the more innocent things that she could manage to get away with, but she didn't miss the significant look that Draco and Blaise exchanged while they both folded a finger down.

"Whose wand is it, then?" Blaise questioned, idly glancing to the wand that was on the table beside the bed. She would have still had it on her person, as Draco and Blaise did (they had folded their wands into the waist of their pajama pants), but she didn't really find it convenient to tuck her wand in her panties or her bra, the only two things she was wearing that were skin tight. She hadn't bothered with shorts; her pajama shirt was long enough, anyway.

"Bill's, originally," she told them. "It's probably why I'm so good with curses," she mused. "But then it was passed on to Fred and George, who switched their wands back and forth, and once they got new wands, it made its way to me." They blinked at this elaborate explanation, and Ginny felt the flush creep up her neck. "Your turn, Blaise," she murmured, looking down at her hands.

Wisely, they decided to ignore her financial situation, but Ginny suddenly realized why. She was willing to bet her brand new broom that next Hogsmeade weekend, they'd take her out, Apparate her to London or Paris, and force her to let them buy her a new wand. They had done that when she complained about her slow broom, gazed longingly at Blaise's quill, and even once when she had shivered in front of them. It had resulted in the promise of a top-of-the-line broom that hadn't been released yet, a whole set of lovely quills, and a brand new fur-lined cloak.

Really, she should know better by now not to bring up stuff like that in front of them.

"Never have I ever danced naked on New Year's," Blaise declared dramatically, effectively diffusing the dark atmosphere that had fallen on them.

"Oh for Salazar's sake!" Draco cried indignantly. "Am I ever going to live that down?" Ginny shared a grin with Blaise.

"Obviously not," she informed him gleefully while he dropped another finger.

"I think you guys declared it 'Let's Pick on Draco Malfoy Night' without letting me know," he grouched at them, before looking thoughtfully devious. "Never have I ever owned a possessed book," he said, smirking at Ginny. She dropped a finger, feeling her heart sink a little bit at what his words had opened up. Now, they'd move onto magic, and then…

Then they'd move on to sex, since magic and sex were nearly synonymous to the two Slytherins next to her. And even though she knew she should be feeling grossed out, or nervous, all she felt was a sort of eager anticipation.

Draco was looking expectantly at Blaise, who finally rolled his eyes dramatically and dropped another finger. At Ginny's curious expression, he explained.

"Summer of my fourth year, my mum thought it'd be funny to gift me a book that contained the trapped soul of her…third husband? Or her fifth," he mused thoughtfully, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Ginny was well aware of Vasiliki Zabini's reputation of being a black widow; she had been married seven times, and was engaged with her eighth husband. Really, she didn't pity any of the men that fell prey to her black widowy ways. If they didn't have enough sense to realize that she'd just kill them and take their money, then they deserved to die.

"Never have I ever owned a Hand of Glory," Ginny informed them, and Draco's scowl deepened as he dropped another finger. He was now down to one hand left, while Ginny and Blaise were still tied with seven fingers. Blaise seemed to realize that as his boyfriend, it was his duty to come to Draco's aid, so he sighed dramatically before he took his turn.

"The things I do for you…" he murmured, as if targeting Ginny was such a trouble for him. "Never have I ever performed the Bat-Bogey Hex." Ginny obligingly dropped her finger, but it was Draco who made the most noise.

"Really, Blaise!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Isn't there something she's done that I haven't?" A petulant look engrained on his face, he crossed his arms temporarily before he realized he had to have his remaining fingers showing, and angrily shoved his four fingers into their sight. Ginny felt the smirk twisting her lips fall when she noticed the distinctly sinister expression on Draco's face. _Oh, no… _

"Never have I ever had something inserted in my twat!" he snapped out vulgarly, instantly bringing a blush to Ginny's cheeks.

"That's because you don't have one!" she protested angrily, looking to Blaise to defend her. He shrugged indifferently.

"Doesn't matter, love. If Draco didn't stick something up there, whether or not he has it isn't the issue. It's whether or not he _did_ it." Still blushing violently, she dropped another finger, leaving her with only one hand left, too. She pouted resentfully at Blaise's two hands. Since when did he have the moral high ground here?

"Fine, if we're going to play that way," she growled angrily, leaning forward slightly. "Never have I ever buggered someone," she snapped out, eyes darting back and forth between the two men who she knew for a fact had buggered someone quite frequently. Instead of looking angry or ashamed, they only looked pleased. _Actually, they've got their shit-eating grins on right now. Oh, great…_

"Never have I ever wanted to have sex with Blaise Zabini," Blaise cooed softly. Ginny felt her blush slam back into place quicker than she could say, "Fuck," and watched with panicked eyes as Draco calmly dropped a finger down. Evidently they had both decided that it was time to make Ginny squirm, even if it was at the cost of their own fingers. She knew it would be pointless to argue that he couldn't possibly ever want to have sex with himself, thus violating the rules, since she had already tried that line of attack and had been shot down.

Ginny was at a loss as to what to do. On the one hand, the fact that she felt something a little bit more than friendship was rather like a well-known secret among them. They were just too polite to ever mention it (excluding now), and she certainly wasn't going to mention it when they obviously had a thing for each other. But if she openly acknowledged it now, she had a feeling that it would change everything between them.

"Bloody hell," she murmured to herself, casting her eyes down demurely as she dropped another finger. She missed the smirks the two Slytherins exchanged. She glanced back up in time to notice that Draco only had two fingers left, but that soon paled in comparison to what Draco said next.

"Never have I ever wanted to have sex with Draco Malfoy," he whispered in the silence, mimicking his paramour's earlier words. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, a mantra running through her head: _Remain calm, remain calm, remain calm…it's only a game…_Of course, this accomplished nothing, especially since she was positive that her blush had spread down so far that they'd be able to see her knees colored rosy.

"Not a word from either of you," she warned darkly, amber eyes opening to glare at them as she lowered her fingers down to three. Complying with her wishes, they didn't say anything about it, but their expressions said everything, anyway.

Again, she wondered just what she had been thinking when she had accepted their invitation. _And here I was thinking that I was actually smart! _she scoffed to herself. It was her turn next, and she could either aggravate the circumstances with a tension-rich never, or she could attempt to distract them with something else. _Or I can just end the game early, _she mused, casting a glance at Draco's two pale fingers, the remnants of his earlier score. Deciding on that option, she raked her brain for an appropriate never.

"Never have I ever turned into an animal," she announced, an effectively innocent topic that was sure to knock down a finger from Draco Malfoy.

Also known as the Amazing Bouncing Ferret.

Draco dropped another finger down reluctantly, probably because he never wanted to remember that episode in his life ever again. His last finger looked lonely without any others near it. It was when Draco glanced to Blaise that Ginny realized that maybe she had scored two in one with this never, and turned to follow his gaze. Blaise had an inscrutable expression on his face as he watched one of his fingers curl into his palm.

Ginny shot a slightly concerned look at Draco at this behavior. The normally more animated of the group looked like he was thinking decidedly dark thoughts, especially on a topic that one would assume to be light and airy. Draco shrugged his shoulders to tell her that it wasn't his place to tell if Blaise didn't want to, but this silent communication was cut off when Blaise spoke.

"Growing up with a Dark mother had its advantages and disadvantages," he began in an expressionless voice, sounding clinical and distanced. "One of the disadvantages was having a Dark step father who found it fun to torture animals. When he ran out of live ones, he often took to Transfiguring me." Ginny blanched at this revelation, feeling the blood rush out of her face. Had they really jumped from such a light topic to this?

"Blaise, I'm…" she trailed off, knowing that anything she said would be insufficient to show just how much she wished she could hurt the man that had hurt him so much.

Decisively, she reached over to his hand which had just lost a finger, and pulled it up to her face, uncurling the finger that had just folded down and delivering a light kiss to its tip. His face was inscrutable for a few more moments, before his lips quirked just the tiniest bit upwards, signaling that he had gotten the message she had attempted to deliver from her lips to his finger.

"Thank you," he murmured, almost inaudibly. She put his hand back in his lap, reluctant to let it go. When she finally did, her fingers trailed away, almost as if she had dipped them in a vat of honey that was Blaise's arm and it refused to let her hand go.

"Your turn," Draco said brusquely, shattering the fragile feeling between them. Ginny spared him a glance; his face was as blank as Blaise's had been. But she realized that he was just as concerned as she had been: he was leaning marginally towards Blaise, and his left hand was digging into his thigh, muscles jumping with tension.

She felt that initial jolt she always felt when seeing Draco Malfoy expressing concern for someone that _wasn't _himself, but that was quickly followed for a rush of awe. After all, he was allowing _her _see his weakness, and she was infinitely more touched than if he had been openly concerned about Blaise.

Ginny realized abruptly that Blaise no longer looked melancholy. He looked positively wicked, actually, and she felt her stomach flip in anticipation. She didn't want to determine if it was a flip of joy or fear.

"Never have I ever…" He paused, the words dragged out so slowly that they seemed to drip from his lips. She felt herself involuntarily leaning forward to hear the words as they were spoken, largely because his voice was lower than a whisper. "…wanted to have _sex_…"

Ginny's voice hitched at the word. Who knew a single syllable could sound so sensuous? As her shirt slid across her knees as she leaned forward even more, she could feel her skin prickling in its wake.

"…with two men at the same time," Blaise finished up with a flourish, and Ginny felt her eyes flutter closed, seared with images she thought she had firmly deposited in the box marked "Saturday Night Bath Time."

"Oh, dear," she murmured contritely, unable to come up with something concrete to say. Somehow she got her eyes opened, and wished she hadn't. The openly hungry gazes barely hidden beneath half-lidded eyes made her want to throw out her moral high ground—_What moral high ground? _she questioned herself—and just give in to the temptation that they presented her with.

"Well?" Draco purred, reaching forward with a seemingly-innocent hand to rest it on her knee. The light touch sent sparks of lightening flying from her knee up her spine and then back down to settle between her legs.

Ginny suddenly had to resist the urge to fold her legs together tightly in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension she felt between them.

"I—" she paused, clearing her throat so her next words didn't come out in the croak her first syllable had been. _Really, Ginny, the least you could do is keep it together, _she scolded distractedly. "I guess that means we're tied now," she said to Draco, dropping her second to last finger.

"And I guess that means we can forget this game and declare me the winner," Blaise declared smoothly. Ginny realized that the only way she could tell he was anything but calm was the fact that his eyes were a little too wide, a little too feverish looking—and they were pinned to her lips.

"I think congratulations are in order, then," Draco decided, and before Ginny could blink he had launched himself at Blaise. Ginny didn't find this occurrence a strange one; it happened at least once a day, especially since Blaise seemed to be a tackle-loving kind of Slytherin.

What surprised her was when Blaise snagged her arm, jerking her towards them so suddenly that she couldn't stop her collapse into them, finding the warm bodies that she landed on so much more appealing than landing on the bed would have been.

"Whoops," Blaise murmured against Draco's lips, not sounding the least bit sorry. Ginny was too lightheaded to respond; she was half on Blaise, while Draco was on his other half. Her entire left side was completely flush with Draco's and she was positive that her shirt had ridden up.

"Oh," the breath whooshed out of her lungs in a belated reaction. "This is…" she trailed off, unsure of what adjective would appropriately sum up the situation.

"Perfect," Draco gasped out, and she tilted her head towards him at the same time that his right hand buried itself in her curls and pulled her face to his. Ginny's eyes involuntarily fluttered closed at the contact, his lips still tasting of Blaise and that indescribably delicious taste that was pure Draco.

With a mind of its own, her tongue curled into his mouth, snaking back out slowly and drawing his with it. This curl paralleled the one she felt in her lower belly, erupting in a string of shocks that she wanted to keep feeling over and over. When a hand started creeping up underneath the shirt, she didn't stop it. She didn't know whose hand it was, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care, either.

Ginny pulled slightly away to pant for breath, dazed beyond comprehension at the overwhelming sensations she was feeling. Draco's hand had descended from her hair to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and was slowly going lower and lower over the smooth shirt. The hand that she assumed was Blaise's had completely bypassed her knickers in favor of kneading the dimples above her bum. Her own hands were busy concentrating on staying in one place, so that meant that one was holding onto Draco and the other was holding onto Blaise.

She was suddenly jerked down by someone and her lips met another pair, so suddenly that she almost missed when Draco pushed her hair off her neck and slowly pulled the shirt lower, his lips caressing their way down her back. He continued this way until she made a sound of protest; the shirt's collar was half-choking her, but she couldn't figure out how to disengage from Blaise's lips, especially since she didn't want to.

"Shirt, lover," Blaise murmured for Ginny, since she was incapable of making any coherent noises. Ginny felt the shirt slowly being raised upwards, and it was enough to knock her back into her senses.

"No," she mumbled, tearing herself away from Blaise partially. "Too soon," she managed to say, at the same time cursing herself. Why in the hell would she give up a chance like this?

But it _was _too soon, too fast. They had been friends for months now, so the sudden lurch from friendship into extremely friendly friendship was a little too much for her at the moment. Besides, she still had to sort out if she wanted to do this with two people at _the same time. _That alone was enough to make her inner Molly Weasley balk at the immorality of it.

But at the same time, her inner Tom Riddle was all for it. She didn't really know what _Ginny _wanted, but she was as conflicted as she'd ever been.

"That's fine, love," Blaise murmured at the same time that Draco let out a gusty sigh of impatience. He managed to look a little sheepish at the dual glares he received from both Blaise and Ginny.

"What?" he asked defensively. "We've just been waiting so long, Blaise…" he trailed off, attempting to not sound like he was whining and failing. Ginny felt a smirk replace the tiny frown on her face.

"Would you like some cheese with that whine?" she teased, and got shoved off of Blaise for her troubles. She let out an "oof!" when Draco rolled over her to fall onto her other side.

She stared up at the ceiling, in between both of their warm bodies, and realized that she was completely and utterly content. She wasn't unhappy, or worrying about the war or the fate of the Golden Trio, or her family, or anything. All she could really focus on was the hazy, all-encompassing satisfaction that she felt lying next to the two Slytherins.

"Never have I ever wanted to be anywhere else," she murmured mostly to herself, sighing happily. They still had a lot to talk about, but that could wait. She knew that neither of them dropped another finger down after her statement, and that was enough.

* * *

(1)--Ventosus is the Latin word meaning like the wind; light; airy.

A/N: And here's the next installment! It's been waiting with Melissa for a while for her harddrive to come back from the shop (for about two weeks or so), but I figured that everyone could wait so there would be less mistakes. :)

You guys are all wonderful! I made someone spontaneously combust, and was also threatened with Indonesian voodoo, but I figure that's a good thing, right?

As you can see, though, this was could _potentially _be in the same universe as Bored, but only if you squint a lot. I do kind of like the idea of having the prompts all inter-related, but even that small amount of structure is too much for me to focus on now, so they'll just be random. I'm also finding myself strangely in love with the little, protective/friendly details that I get when Draco and Blaise interact with Ginny, so there might be more of that rather than just a straight out sex!fest (as you can see here, where they STOP).

Never have I ever loved receiving reviews more!

Roma


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